


Don't Move

by sophelstien



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2531684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophelstien/pseuds/sophelstien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasha’s had a crush on Mikasa since freshman year fencing team try-outs. She went because Connie thought swords were cool and dared Sasha to try it, but Mikasa was actually serious about it. She was junior state champion and quickly climbed the ranks within the club, landing position as the captain in only her junior year. Sasha didn’t even make it past prelim try-outs but the damage was already done. She was whipped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Move

**Author's Note:**

> i promised vicky i'd write her a fic here's chapter one i'm so sorry  
> title's a phantogram song and is subject to change because i kind of hate it

Sometimes when he thinks Sasha’s not looking, Connie eats his own boogers. But she’s looking. She knows.

She knows a little because his PS3 controllers are really crusty but mostly because he smears his booger-and-spit covered fingers _all over their shared chem notes_. She can’t complain that much because she should probably be taking her own notes but she copies them in history class regardless. But she sits next to Mikasa in history class. And Mikasa is gorgeous and talented and makes Sasha feel out of breath when she just _glances_ her way and most definitely doesn’t have boogers on her chem notes.

Sasha’s trying really hard to give her undivided attention to the notes but she can’t stop looking at Mikasa. She cut her hair pretty short a few days ago so that it just brushes the edge of her jaw and Sasha thinks it’s the best decision she’s ever made, but it’s also really distracting. She wants to run her fingers through it.

“Psst!” Historia, who sits on the other side of her, nudges her surprisingly hard with her elbow. “You’ve been staring at Mikasa all class,” she screech-whispers. Sasha winces, glancing up to see if Mr. Smith heard her, but he’s still droning on about the Industrial Revolution, undisturbed. “You should come to GSA after school today and tell me about it,” she continues, reaching into her backpack and producing the tiniest rainbow flag Sasha could possibly imagine. She places it on Sasha’s desk, gives her a meaningful look, and returns her attention back to her notes. Sasha rolls her eyes so hard she thinks they might fall out of her head.

 

Sasha’s had a crush on Mikasa since freshman year fencing team try-outs. She went because Connie thought swords were cool and dared Sasha to try it, but Mikasa was actually serious about it. She was junior state champion and quickly climbed the ranks within the club, landing position as the captain in only her junior year. Sasha didn’t even make it past prelim try-outs but the damage was already done. She was whipped.

Sasha and Connie ended up joining the drama club instead and now make up the entirety of its tech crew. Being a drama kid may not be that great in and of itself, but Mikasa comes to the shows sometimes (her brother is on the slam poetry team and is always ranting about “supporting fellow artists”), so it’s definitely not that bad. Except when Dawk, their drama advisor, gives kids detention and forces them to help Sasha and Connie build. And he exclusively gives detention to Ymir. Every day.

“Hey, Braus,” Ymir says, sidling up to Sasha as she’s measuring a 2x4. “Heard you’ve got a crush on someone.”

“Yeah?” Sasha says, snapping the measuring tape back into its shell. “Where’d’ya hear that from?”

“I got my sources,” she replies. She leans on the cutting table, narrowly avoiding stabbing herself with a screw. “And my sources wanted me to give you this.” She pulls out a sheet of paper folded in half from the back pocket of her nappy jeans and slides it across the table, which probably would’ve been smooth had the table not had a foot-deep layer of sawdust on it. Sasha picks it up and wrinkles her nose, fighting off the urge to sneeze into Ymir’s mouth.

“What is this?”

“Just open it later. Alone.” Ymir winks. Sasha thinks it’s creepy. “See ya, kid.”

 

Connie nags her about the paper the entire walk from the auditorium to her beat-up car. The ’93 Ford Aspire never seemed farther away.

The second they’re in the car Connie’s rifling through the pocket of Sasha’s letterman and pulls out the wrinkled sheet. He snaps it open and scans it.

“What’s it saaaaaay?” Sasha whines, nudging Connie while trying to keep her eyes on the road.

“It’s a flyer for some band playing at Shiganshina Bar on Saturday.” He snorts and bats Sasha’s hand away from the poster. The car swerves a little. “The band’s called The Gay Youth. Typical. Wait, there’s something written on the back.” He flips it over and Sasha can sort of see girly handwriting in pink gel pen out of the corner of her eye.

“It’s from Historia.” He quirks an eyebrow at Sasha. She ignores it. “It says that Mikasa’s gonna be there and that Ymir can get us in if we wanna come.” He grins at her. She grins back.

 

In the ten minutes she’s been in the bar, Sasha has been elbowed in the ribs, smacked in the face, and shoved in various directions by countless drunk college students. She’s forsaken Connie and can only hope he will find her again before the end of the night.

She finally makes it to the back of the bar where Historia said she’d be. She ducks under a bunch of frat boys playing darts and sighs in relief at the sight of Historia and Reiner sitting at the bar together.

“Hey!” Historia squeals, pulling Sasha in for a quick hug. “Did you find the place okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, neglecting to tell her about her battle once she actually entered the place. 

“So listen, I’m close personal friends with the band and they _totally_ rock. Also, Annie told me that her and Mikasa are gonna be here in, like, half an hour so you should probably start drinking now. Hey, Ymir!”

Ymir sidles over from behind the tap and grins.

“Aw, look who finally showed face. What can I get ya, sweetcheeks?”

“Uh…” Sasha bounces on her heels and studies the specials board. She doesn’t drink too often and doesn’t really like the taste of alcohol and is starting to panic. “I dunno…Angry Orchard looks good, I guess? And, like, wings maybe?”

“No way, you can’t eat wings if you want to talk to Mikasa tonight,” Reiner says, taking a fold-up Frisbee from his back pocket and twirling it around his finger.

“And why not?” Sasha huffs.

“Because she’s a vegetarian. She’s not gonna kiss you if you have meat stuck between your teeth. Duh.”

“Okay, that’s stupid.”

“So, wings or not?” Ymir interrupts. Sasha reluctantly shakes her head.

“Great,” Ymir mutters and walks away to get her drink. “I sure hope you tip, Sasha!” She shouts from the tap, causing a few college kids nearby to snicker.

Ymir returns with her drink and she sips it tentatively. To be honest, she’s too nervous to even eat wings. So she drinks a little bit faster.


End file.
